


The Sad Life of Tim Riggins

by BeyondTheBoundsOfHumanKnowledge



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Billy's A Good Brother, Fluff, Panic Attacks, Tim needs a hug, Walt's A Shitty Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 02:26:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5565682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeyondTheBoundsOfHumanKnowledge/pseuds/BeyondTheBoundsOfHumanKnowledge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walt dumps Tim on Billy's doorstep on a boiling hot summer day. The kid's fucked up. Bad. He's covered in bruises that run much deeper than just on skin. </p>
<p>;-;-;-;</p>
<p>Or, how Billy Riggins tries (and sometimes fails) to help his baby brother get back to the person he was before Billly left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sad Life of Tim Riggins

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I enjoy making characters I like hurt. 
> 
> This isn't edited, so any mistakes are completely my fault. Please enjoy and feel free to leave any criticisms in the comments.
> 
> Additionally, you can come visit me in my trash can [Here](http://www.frnknstn-iero.tumblr.com)

Billy’s been looking after Tim since the little thirteen year old twerp was carted up to his door and left there by his no-good father. 

It was late in the summer and boiling hot, in the middle of the day when temperatures reached the point of unbearable. Tim was just left at the front of the house with nothing to drink and the instruction not to move. Tim was terrified of his father, he hit him and spat abuse from his mouth any chance he got. 

When Billy showed back up at the house, it was well past eleven o’clock at night. There was a shadow in front of the door that wasn’t usually there. When Billy got closer he realized that shadow belonged to Tim Riggins, Billy’s little brother who he hadn’t seen in years. The last time he’d seen Tim, the kid was around ten and a shorter than an elf. He’d been the brightest, most hopeful kid Billy had ever met. The kid on his doorstep was a shell of that person who used to be Tim Riggins. The kid was crumpled up into a ball, trying to make himself as small as possible, like he was trying to hide himself away from the world. 

Tim flinched when Billy came up to the doorstep, like Billy hit him. “Are you just gonna sit there?” Billy opened the door, stepped over Tim and went inside the house. He left the door open behind him. 

It was at least ten minutes before Billy even saw Tim move, then slowly, he stood up, grabbed his bag and came into the house. The kid stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room and tried to not stare at Billy as he grabbed a beer and sat on the couch. Tim took another few minutes and then finally made his way over to the chair that sat directly across from the couch where Billy was lounging. He sat in the chair, gently, as if it would break. He pulled his knees up to his chest and scrunched himself up into a little ball and didn't move or speak for the rest of the night.

Billy gets up the next morning after a night of sleeping on the couch and sees that in his sleep, Tim had slid off the chair and onto the ground. His arms were tucked under his head and the rest of him was completely strewn about on the floor.

While the kid was still asleep, Billy took a minute to observe how different this Tim was from the one he remembered. The old Tim didn't have long scraggly hair and a perpetual scowl on his face. The little brother that Billy remembered followed him around and had a mouth filled with questions that no little kid should be asking. This Tim was dirty haired and had put up walls and barriers to protect himself from the world.

It’s another twenty minutes before Billy hears a little grunt and then the sound of a body moving around on the floor. Billy’s in the kitchen when Tim’s breath starts coming in quick, sharp, little pants. Billy really hoped the kid wasn’t doing what he thought Tim was doing. “Kid if you’re jerkin’ off, go do it in the bathroom at least. Save my sanity.” Then all of a suddens all noise stops. It’s like he’s stopped breathing, he stays like that, absolutely silent for longer than what should be normal.

Billy peered over the counter to where Tim was lying. The kid was still as a statue. He was curled up tightly into a little ball and he wasn’t making a sound. Billy rushed up to him and when he put his hand on Tim’s body, the kid flinched so hard that Billy thought he might’ve pulled something. “Tim? Tim! What’s wrong?” The kid was shaking now. Shivering hard enough that he looked like he was freezing. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please don’t go!” Tim suddenly surged up, throwing his arms around Billy’s neck and hugged him tightly. At first, Billy had no idea what to do, he had this thirteen year old kid wrapped around him almost sobbing into his shoulder.

Finally Billy wrapped his arms around his little brother and let him have the affection that he most definitely hadn’t gotten when he was with their dad. They sat there for at least an hour while Billy tried to calm Tim down. Billy didn’t realize he was crying until he felt a tear drip down his cheek. Billy hated himself so much for all the years that he left Tim with their terribly cruel father. Billy realized then and there, that he would make it up to Tim, no matter how long it took.

;-;-;-;

It's not long after Tim starts staying with Billy that Jason shows up. It's late afternoon on Tim’s first day at the Dillon middle school. He comes in with some little kid who five foot nothing and probably no more than a hundred and ten pounds. He struts in the door after Tim like he owns the place. 

Billy’s sitting at the counter with half a sandwich jammed in his mouth and this little shrimp of a kid marches right up to him, sticks out his hand a says, “my name’s Jason Street, don't forget it, you’ll be seein’ a lot of me.” 

Tim’s standing idly at the door, shifting from foot to foot. When Jason turns around and somehow managed to lead Tim to his own room, despite never being in their house. Tim shut the door behind him and Billy doesn't see them until he calls the boys out for macaroni for dinner. 

Billy starts seeing more and more of Jason Street and Tim becomes more outgoing, more like the kid Billy remembers.

Jason’s parents start inviting Tim over for dinner on Tuesdays and they start throwing the football around. Billy watches as the little shrimp that is Jason Street gains muscle and slowly grows into a quarterback. Billy watches Tim go from being quiet and reserved to being the best fullback Billy’s ever seen.

Everything is perfect. Tim gets on the football team on his junior year and Jason, who has already been playing on the Panthers for two years introduces him to all his high school friends. 

Along with high school comes girls. More specifically Tyra Collett. She’s tall and busty and beautiful. Tim’s infatuated from day one. When he brings her home, only a few days after he meets her, Billy finally understands what Tim’s obsessing over. She infuriating, sassy and the perfect person to bring Tim out of his shell. 

Tim’s outgoing and quite honestly driving Billy up the wall. He’s come home on more than one occasion to Tim drinking a beer with Tyra perched on his lap more often than not. It happens repeatedly until Billy finally looses his cool.

He comes home to Tim with beer can surrounding him on the floor and couch. His little brother is drunk off his ass and Billy’s not impressed.

“Tim, you keep drinkin’ like this you’ll end up like dad. You're fifteen damn years old! Smarten the hell up!” Billy instantly regrets this when Tim freezes. 

“Sorry, Bill.” Tim ducks his head and mutters so quietly that Billy has to strain to hear him. 

Tim still doesn't move when Billy approaches him. He sits on the couch next to his baby brother and sets a hand on Tim’s back. He feels Tim slowly relax, so he pulls on his shoulders until Tim falls into Billy’s chest.

There aren't any incidents after that, Tim cleans up his act enough that Billy doesn't actively catch him drinking or banging Tyra anymore. 

Everything is great for a while until Walt shows up again.

;-;-;-;

Tim’s sixteen the next time their deadbeat dad shows up. He’s walking home from school when this crappy old car pulls up beside his. “Hey Timmy.” When Tim turns his head he sees the man who left him on his brother’s doorstep in one of his many drunk spells. “Why don’t you come for a ride with your old man?” Billy had warned him about how their father will do anything to get money off either of them. When Tim told him no for the first time, Walt kept pestering him. Tim tried to walk away, Walt drove slowly beside him and continued to bother him. It took ten minutes and quite a bit of yelling but Tim finally got his dad to drive away.

When he and Billy had their dinner, Tim didn’t tell him about seeing their father. Billy could tell something was up because of how quiet his little brother was being. Usually dinner was filled with stories of the girls that Tim got with or about football practice, but today Tim just sat at his spot at the table and didn’t say a thing. 

Later that night, when Billy was on the couch, watching T.V, Tim came out of his room and sat on the couch with Billy. Over the next half hour, Tim slid closer and closer to Billy, until he was nearly tucked right up beside his older brother. Billy could feel Tim’s body right next to his and he could feel how still he was next to him. Tim hardly moved for the rest of the night and when Billy got up to go to bed, his baby brother whined and grabbed at Billy's arm until he say back down. 

When Tim got like that, it reminded him of all the times his baby brother had panicked or had been so terrified that he just froze up. His breathing would quicken to the point of hyperventilation and then all of a sudden just completely stop. 

One time in particular that never ceased to give Billy chills, was when he had wrapped their old tuck around a tree. When he woke up in the hospital, Tim had the chair pulled directly beside the bed and was staring at him over the knees that were pulled up tightly to his chest. Tim’s breathing picked up and then full out stopped. When Tim felt Billy's hand on his shoulder, he startled and looked up. Upon seeing Billy looking back at him, alive and-for the most part-well, his face crumpled. Then, all of a sudden Billy had a lap full of fourteen year old Tim Riggins. Tim's breath picked up again. “Oh God! You’re alive.” He sobbed into Billy's shirt, talking faster and faster, breath coming in quick pants. In the year Tim had been staying with him, he'd become dependent on Billy, he'd become Tim's home and he couldn't imagine not having his big brother around. “Tim, Tim, I’m fine. We’re gonna be fine.” It took Billy an hour to get Tim to even his breath out and get out of the stock still position he wouldn't move from. Even after Tim was riddled with shivers after he calmed down and ended up falling asleep in Billy's arms. 

;-;-;-;

It's only a few days after Walt had heckled Tim, that he showed up again. This time Tim was at the house by himself after school, when someone knocked on the door. He set down the beer-that he wasn't supposed to be drinking-and went to answer the door. On the other side, Walt Riggins stood, with his usual mean expression and cruel personality.

Tim didn't need this kind of shit in his life. Tim had football to worry about. He was in his sophomore year and was already one of the best players on the team. The coach would be on his ass if he had anything other than football on his mind. He had to be one hundred percent there for his team. His jerk of a father showing up definitely didn't help. Tim could already feel himself start to panic. Whenever he even thought about Walt he was immediately thrown into a mindset that his father had quite literally beat it into him. He receded inside a shell. Last time Walt showed up, Tim had been in a funk for weeks, he had been off his game and everyone noticed. Billy, Coach, Jason and all the other guys on the team. Walt really messed him up.

“Why don’t you let your pops in?” Walt had a smug grin on his face. When Tim tried to shut the door, his father stuck his foot in front, effectively keeping the door open. Tim continuously refuses him and Walt eventually forced the door open. 

By the time Billy gets home, he's too late. Tim's on the floor curled into a little ball with Walt standing over him and their dad's foot on his shoulder, pinning him to the floor. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Billy’s furious. He can't even believe that Walt has the audacity to come into this house, that Billy has considered a safe haven and hurt his baby brother. Billy doesn’t think he's ever been more angry. 

“Well, you see son, me and Timmy was just havin’ a chat.” Walt doesn't even flinch when Billy slams the door, but Tim does. He twitches so hard that Walt has to steady himself. Billy can see Tim’s breath start to quicken, his breathing becoming erratic until it just flat out stops. Tim’s eyes are squeezed shut and he freezes. 

“Eh Timmy? We was just havin’ a chat.” Walt shakes Tim with his foot and that's all it takes. Billy marches right up to that old, selfish, bastard and punches him directly in his ugly face. 

Walt tumbles back, slamming hard into the wall. Billy continues after him, getting in as many punches as he can, before Walt hits him weakly back once and promptly stumbled out the door.

Billy’s seething, but all the anger dissipates when his eyes falls on Tim. The older Riggins is on the ground in record time. He plucks Tim up off the floor and into his arms.

“I'm sorry, Tim. I'm so sorry baby brother. He’s gone. Timmy, I swear to God, if he ever comes back I’ll kill him.” Billy watches his tears fall on Tim’s messy brown hair before he realizes that he’s crying. 

It takes twenty minutes before he feels Tim unfreeze and wrap his arms around his big brother. They’re far from perfect but they make it work.

;-;-;-;

When Jason gets hurt it messes Tim up real bad. All Billy can do is watch while Jason ducks his head and slams helmet first into the Westerby player. The ambulance is called and Jason’s carried off on the gurney to the hospital.

All Billy can do is watch while Tim’s shoulders rises and fall with his quick breathing until they stop altogether. He knows that his little brother’s life is falling apart. Jason’s the only reason Tim came out of his shell.

Billy shoves his way through the crowd until he’s at the sidelines right behind where Tim is standing.

“Tim.” No reply, “Tim.” Nothing. The other players notice Billy standing there and when he gestures to his little brother, they seem to get the hint. When one of them puts their hand on Tim’s shoulder he flinches. Hard. He turns around and sees Billy and honestly, Billy doesn't think he’s ever seen Tim look so relieved in his life. 

“Tim. Get over here for a sec.” Tim slowly trudges over to him, his head hung low, helmet at his side.

Billy puts his hand on Tim’s neck and pulls his little brother down so he can talk to him. “Jay’s gonna be fine Timmy. He’ll be fine. Now you get out there and kick their asses, okay? Make them pay for hurting Jason, okay?” Billy realizes, in hindsight, that that wasn't the greatest advice he could've given Tim. He’s seen Tim in action, knows he can be violent, too violent.

His little brother gives an affirmative nod and Billy watches him straighten his shoulders and put back on his famous Tim Riggins game face.

After the game starts up again, Tim plays like he’s going to die if he doesn't hurt these Westerby chumps as badly as he can. Billy doesn't think he’s ever watched Tim play as viciously as he is now. He’s tackling players left and right, hitting them so hard they’re on the ground, stunned after he hits them.

Billy can tell he’s doing it on purpose, there's only minutes left in the game, but Tim’s playing like it’s the most important game of his life. When Tim gets a chance at the Westerby player that Jason made the tackle on, he destroys the kid. There’s only seconds left in the game, the stand in quarterback makes the winning throw and the Panthers win the game against all odds. But, just as Seven lets the throw go, Tim hits the Westerby player so hard and with so much force that the kid’s knocked the hell out. Tim goes shoulder and head first into the kid’s stomach, lifts him completely off the ground and plows him into the field. Tim gets up and walks away without a second glance. The whole team is celebrating on the field, but Tim just marches into the locker rooms.

Billy wait outside for ten minutes before Tim hustles out, probably before any of the other players made it into the room. His expression is blank and he’s standing as still as a statue. Billy’s beside him in a second, hand on his shoulder. 

“You’re alright. Tim he’s gonna be fine.” Billy tries to comfort him as they make their way to the truck. “We’ll head over to the hospital, c’mon.” 

;-;-;-;

Billy’s never witnessed as much drinking before. Tim drinks himself into a pit of depression. He sleeps with anyone he can get his hands on. Tim’s fucked right up and Billy knows he can't do a Goddamn thing about it. 

It's been weeks and Tim hasn't been to see Jason. He has, however been seeing Lyla Garrity. To much of Lyla,in fact. She's Jason girl and everyone knows it, but that doesn't seem to stop Tim. When Billy brings it up, his little brother gets all sad and down on himself, so Billy decides it’s not worth it at all. 

;-;-;-;

When Tim goes out to the bar, he’s looking to get beat the hell up and Billy has never been so scared in his life. Tim doesn't even look sorry when Billy pulls his sorry ass out of there. He’s got a grin on his dirty, bloody, cut-to-hell face. For the minutes they spend in the car, heading back to their shitty house, Tim’s smile is so relieved, like a huge weight has just been lifted off his chest. Billy can’t even look at him.

They get home and the adrenaline seems to wear off Tim pretty damn quick. His head is hunched like he’s trying to retract into his shoulders, his breathing pick up and his face goes completely blank. Then it stops. Tim goes completely still, like he might die if he moves even one muscle. 

Billy ushers him into the house and into his room. He tucks in his six foot one, two hundreds pounds of muscle, baby brother into bed. He sits down right beside him holding the ice-pack over his eye. It doesn't take long before Tim’s passed out asleep, so Billy slowly gets up and turns off the lights. He shuts the door quietly, slowly sliding down it. He buries his head in his hands and wonders what the hell he’s supposed to do with his self-destructive baby brother.

;-;-;-;

Billy knows that the chop shop’s a stupid idea, but he needs the money and for some reason Billy can’t not do it.

When Tim takes the blame for him, Billy knows there’s not a single damn thing he can do and it terrifies him. 

;-;-;-; 

Prison changes Tim, Billy sees it every single time he looks at his younger brother. The same younger brother that used to be so full of life and energy is now a grown man that doesn't crack smiles or talk for days on end. Billy wished there was something he could do, God, he prays for it every night. Billy isn't even a religious man, but any chance he gets, he sends a quick prayer up to the man upstairs. Tim recedes into himself and doesn't come out.

One night, Tim's sitting out back, his legs dangling over the edge of the empty pool, drinking a beer. So, Billy makes his way out and plops down beside him and wraps an arm around Tim.

“Oh, little brother, what the hell are we gonna do?” Billy asks him. 

“I don't know Bill, we’ll see what we can do. Hey, I know, let's sell our souls!” Billy can sense the utter sarcasm in Tim voice and it pulls out a laugh from Billy.

“I happen to know a few, Timmy.” When Billy says this it pulls a laugh out of Tim. It's a sound Billy hasn’t heard in ages and, not that he’ll ever admit it, but he really struggled to not break down in tears. 

Billy’s practically raised this kid from the time their deadbeat dad dropped him off on a burning hot summer day, to all the freeze attacks, from his wild drinking, to sleeping with everyone he could. Billy can't say he’s perfect, but he’s done a hell of a lot more than that shitty excuse of a father ever did. He taught Tim how to get in with the ladies and held his hair back when he was loosing the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl, on the floor and even on the couch. All Walt ever did for them was hit them and be the most neglectful father in the history of all fathers. 

Billy doesn't know how they’ve managed to make it this far, but he hopes they keep on going.


End file.
